Field Stripped: 15 Steamy Military Romances

by Marissa Dobson

  The group gasped. Logan smirked in satisfaction. “Now, who’s next?” He crossed his leg over his knee and folded his arms across his chest.

  The man named Thomas spoke up first. “So you’re here because she died, then you found out she cheated?”

  Logan shook his head. “Not quite.”

  “No questions until the entire group has spoken,” Miranda instructed. Thomas lowered his gaze, looked to Logan once again with what appeared to be sorrow, then looked down.

  He felt good about his statement. A smirk played on his lips, then as the buzz in the room softened, so did his mood. Then resentment set in. He resented Miranda for making him speak. He did not like talking about the war, Susan, or anything of that matter. He looked to the floor and tuned everyone else out. Images flashed through is mind of Susan, Sterling’s woman he fucked in the bar, Jen from yesterday, the drinking, the threesome…

  “Thank you for sharing everyone. Does anyone have questions on today’s session?”

  Logan looked to her with chagrin. “Yeah, I do. Is it over?”

  She nodded.

  He stood and his chair fell on its back. Lifting it back up, he stood upright and made his way toward the door.

  “Logan, please don’t leave yet.”

  “Why?” he asked turning back to face Miranda, “so you can further drive questions that will make me resent you that much more?”

  She blinked and stared at him. The others quickly hurried out of the meeting room and the two were left alone. Voices whispered past them making assumptions of an oncoming fight.

  “I did not mean for you to resent me, Logan. All I’m trying to do is--”

  “I know what you’re trying to do and honestly, it sickens me. I don’t want to talk about what happened, yet here I am. There is nothing wrong with me.”

  “How do you mask your pain?”

  Logan blinked. “What?” he asked and made his way back toward her.

  Miranda backed away slowly until the back of her legs hit the desk in the room. “How do you mask your pain?”

  “I don’t mask shit,” he told her in a softer voice.

  “Sure you do. Some people drink, others have one-night stands. What do you do to numb it?”

  He stepped closer toward her and gazed down her body. He appreciated her curves, no matter how resentful and pissed he felt. Logan wanted to bend her across the desk and sink his face between her thighs.

  “Logan?”

  He quickly looked up to her. “I don’t hide or mask anything. I drink occasionally and I enjoy the time spent with a woman here and there.”

  She nodded. “Right. So drinking and sex gets your mind off things?”

  He shrugged. “Care to find out?”

  “No, and you will step back, right now. I’m not interested in your games. I’m only interested in helping you.”

  “You are?” She nodded. She seemed sincere. He might be able to use this to his advantage. “Then do one-on-one sessions with me. I don’t do this group crap nor do I believe in it.”

  “I don’t do one-on-ones, Logan, especially with someone who seems to have an interest in me.”

  He grinned. “Well, now look who’s being presumptuous.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “And why not? I’ll talk to you only on a one-on-one basis. I’ll tell you whatever you need to hear and you’ll sign me off as good. It’s a win-win.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “It’s not a good idea.”

  “Says who?” he asked.

  “Says the voice in my head. If I do this, Logan, it’s on my terms and you have to follow through. Understood?”

  He smiled and nodded. “So, I’ll pick you up later?”

  “Logan, this is not a date.”

  He smirked. “I know, I was teasing. But seriously, where and how?”

  She reached for her notepad and scribbled something down, ripped it off the pad and handed it over. “This is my personal cell. Call me tomorrow and we’ll set this up. It is up to you to follow through, Logan.”

  Miranda side stepped him and made her way toward the door. As she grabbed the handle, she glanced back over her shoulder to him. “Don’t make me regret doing this.”

  He grinned. “I most certainly will,” he mumbled to himself.

  Chapter Eleven

  Logan tucked his dark blue fitted T-shirt into his jeans, paired with his black boots, then pulled on his leather jacket. He zipped it up then grabbed his helmet, and an additional one for Miranda. She had agreed to meet with him, but the circumstances had not been set. He thought briefly if she had ever ridden on a bike.

  “No better time than the present,” he told himself. He snatched the keys from the counter and pushed his Ray Ban sunglasses onto his face. Locking his front door, Logan headed out to where his Harley Fat Boy had been parked. Stepping toward his garage, the door slowly opened and the early afternoon sun slipped into the room as if seeking real estate in the darkness of the shadows. The sleek maroon painted bike with the silver Harley logo on the side reflected the light and Logan grinned.

  He swung one leg over and started up the bike; it roared to life between his legs. Setting the extra helmet secured behind him, he took off to where he knew Miranda to be, the group session he agreed to be a part of.

  Moments later, he arrived and ventured inside the building. He sat his helmet on a desk near the opening and opted to leave his shades on for a moment longer. Miranda stood across the empty room fiddling with papers and he wanted to watch her, at least long enough until she saw him.

  The woman wore trouser style pants today, which will work in her favor on the bike. As much as he would rather her bare thighs surround his body, he’d prefer it around his pelvis, not his backside on his bike. She wore a dark green sleeveless shirt that crossed over her breasts, fitted to her body. It provided more detail to her exact curves… if Logan were to imagine what her curves were like that is.

  He crossed the room, taking advantage of her back being turned to him. Stepping up behind her, he cleared his throat. He shoved his hands in his pockets and waited as she stood straight. Turning to face him, Miranda blinked and took a small step back. He noticed, almost immediately, the blood rush to her cheeks as she blushed.

  “Logan? You’re here,” she squeaked. She lowered her gaze to the floor, then back to his eyes. “If you’d take a seat,” she swallowed and side stepped him, “we can get started.” She smiled, then sighed softly to herself.

  He nodded and followed her lead. “I’m ready, then after this…”

  She cut him off. “Logan, about that,” Miranda lowered her voice, “I’m not sure leaving with you is such a good idea.”

  Logan raised a brow to this. He expected some reluctance, but not a change in plans. He offered a nod. “Understood. Let’s see how session plays out today, then we’ll decide when it is over. How does that sound?” He grinned and casually touched her arm as he walked past her.

  She cleared her throat and nodded.

  Seems I have an effect on her, he told himself. This could be very easy, or fucking hard as hell. He took a seat and removed his shades, folded them, and placed the arm on the collar of his shirt. He folded his arms and cross an ankle over the opposite knee.

  Others soon began to arrive. They were the same ones he’d recognized from the prior weeks. Some smiled as they entered, others frowned and made coffee. Once everyone had been seated, Miranda took her place in between two others, placing herself three people away from Logan. He could watch her from the side view if he chose, or stare straight ahead as he had in the past.

  The view to my right is much better than the damn white wall. He smirked at his own inner thoughts. As Miranda crossed her legs, placing manila folders in her lap, she glanced around the circle. She did a double take as she looked to Logan, who in return, offered her a smirk.

  She smiled to herself, then lowered her gaze. “Welcome, everyone,” she started. “
Today, I’d like to start with the beginning. For those new here, we usually come in and discuss what is bothering us, but today, I’d like to discuss where this all started for you.

  “For me,” Miranda paused and took a deep breath, “I started counseling when I realized I could help people. I watched a good friend of mine fall down a dark path and for the life of me, I could no longer reach her. I was not sure what to do to bring her back and eventually, I had to let go.” She lowered her gaze for a moment.

  “Why did you let go?” a woman across the circle from Logan asked. She did not remove her eyes from Miranda, and to be honest with himself, Logan was curious about the same question.

  Miranda glanced up to her and offered a slight nod. “Good question. A part of me wished I had hung on longer. A month after we stopped contact… well, no, after I stopped contact with her, her body had been found from an overdose.”

  “Oh my God,” the woman whispered.

  Miranda nodded. “This was the turning moment for me. When I realized I could have made a difference if maybe I had just pushed harder. If maybe I had been there for her, if I had maybe actually found out what happened to her.” She shook her head. “I could never get it out of her, but if I had asked others, maybe checked with the police? I don’t know, maybe she would still be with me today. I carry her death on my shoulders every day of my life.”

  “You realize you are not to blame, right?” Logan asked before he had time to process what he just said. He swallowed when everyone in the circle turned to him.

  She nodded and offered a smile. “Yes, I realize that, but it doesn’t make it any easier. In time, the pain began to dull and it is now something I live with, rather than it living through me… if that makes any sense.”

  “It does,” the woman across from Logan chimed in.

  “Okay, so there is my beginning on why I chose this field. So, let’s start to my left.” She turned to the man next to her, but her eyes landed on Logan. “Everyone will tell their beginning on how they believe they ended up here with me today.”

  Logan kept his gaze on hers and did not blink, or flinch. When the man next to Miranda began to speak, she finally broke the contact. Logan lowered his gaze and listened to the people in the room.

  Addiction to gambling, the first man next to Miranda lost his wife, his house… lost everything.

  The woman next to him touched his shoulder, then she started. She found herself here because her mother’s new husband began to touch her.

  Logan shook his head and lowered his gaze. Any person who touches a child deserves no better than death by firing squad… after they’ve been beaten to a pulp, skinned alive, doused with gasoline and lit on fire. Then death by firing squad would suffice.

  Lost in his own thoughts, he heard his name.

  “Logan?”

  He glanced up to Miranda who stared at him, as well as the others in the room. Great, so it was his turn now. She wanted him to speak up about how he ended up here, how his wife died, how she had been fucking someone else… well, no thanks.

  “Pass,” he told the group. His voice had softened and it sounded as if he had just woke up. It had a deepness to it, and he cleared his throat.

  “Logan, please share your beginning with the group. It’ll help not only you, but the others…”

  “I would rather not, if it’s all the same to you. My story doesn’t fit in with what has happened here. Trust me. No one wants to hear why I’m here.” He lowered his gaze and re-crossed his leg and tightened his arms over his chest. He cut himself off from the group and looked to the man next to him.

  Taking the cue, the man nodded and Logan made a mental note to thank him later.

  A little over an hour later, the group session ended. Logan stood and made his way toward the table holding his helmet and he waited. The others said their goodbyes to one another, then to Miranda. She glanced across the room to him and shook her head.

  Logan perked a brow and sighed, then stepped in the hallway and waited, leaning against the wall. She’ll either talk to me here, or talk to me where I want to take her. Either way, we’re talking.

  He heard her wrapping up the last conversation when the man who sat next to Logan stepped out of the room. Logan pushed off the wall and reached for his arm.

  “Hey, man, thanks for… earlier.”

  The man, maybe in his late fifties shook his head and held his hand up. “No problem at all. I can see there’s something deep going on and it’s not quite ready to come out. All in your own time, man. All in your own time. And thank you for your service to our country.” Logan nodded and the man smiled and patted Logan on the arm. He made his way down the hall and pressed the down button on the elevator. When the lift arrived, he stepped inside and disappeared.

  Logan leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. He listened for a moment, nodding to himself that Miranda had been left alone. He heard her heels strike against the tile floor growing louder as she approached the exit. She stepped out and closed the door, then flinched as she saw him waiting for her.

  “Have you been here, out here, the entire time?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I waited for you.”

  She nodded. “Logan, I don’t think…”

  He cut her off. “It’s here or we can go somewhere else. Either way, I’ll talk, but only to you.” He pushed off the wall again and stepped closer to her. Miranda stepped away from him until her back pressed against the wall behind her.

  “Logan, please don’t…”

  “Miranda,” he started in a soft voice, “I’m not going to do anything to you. I just needed you to know that, and I think you’re a very sexy woman.” He smirked. “As much as I would enjoy pressing your body against this wall,” he leaned into her slightly, “I would not do as much unless it was reciprocated. I’m not a pig.”

  She raised a brow. “You’re not a pig, yet you landed in the drunk tank for fighting in a bar after screwing a friend’s woman?”

  He chuckled. “She came after me for it. Who am I to stop her?” He leaned in, pressing his hand on the wall. “Besides, I did him a favor. He broke things off with her. He’s better off for it.”

  “You really think that?” she asked as she kept her eyes on his. “You really think you did him a favor?”

  He nodded. “It would have been me or some other asshole. He’s better off.”

  “So are you saying you’re an asshole?”

  “Oh, I know I’m an asshole. I never said I wasn’t. But what I’m not, is an asshole to a woman I find very attractive.” He gently ran his finger down her cheek. Miranda didn’t blink, breathe or move. She stood there, staring in his eyes.

  He knew he was getting to her, he could see the evidence of it in her expression. She wanted him, just as much as he wanted her.

  Or so he thought.

  Miranda pressed a firm hand against his chest and pushed. “Logan, stop this right now. I’m not interested in hooking up, okay? I made that pretty clear before when--”

  “Hey, now, once I’m no longer in your care, so to speak, we can hook up as much as you like. ‘Til then, all I’m asking for is one-on-one time.”

  “Right, so you can woo me? I don’t think so. Wooing me won’t get you a pass, Logan. Drop the shit. You want help? I’m here. If you don’t care and you’re here so you don’t lose your stripes? Then get the hell out. I have better than things to do with my time than this bullshit.” She pushed harder against him but he didn’t move.

  “Excuse me?” He came back to her with a grin. “I like a woman who’s feisty.” He chuckled. “Okay, allow me to formally put on record I’m not wooing you.” He grinned. “Did you really say woo?”

  She stared at him for a moment, then lowered her gaze. Miranda shook her head and when she looked back up, her frown changed to a grin. It reached her eyes and Logan smiled in return. It lit up her face in a way that had been different than before. She was without a doubt, stunning. The smile had become an added
bonus.

  “I did say woo. Now, if we’re on the same page here, I’ll help you and we’ll talk, but Logan, it is on my terms. Understood?”

  He nodded and smiled again. “You bet it’s understood. What else?”

  “No sexy remarks, no come-ons, nothing that would jeopardize any progress we’ve made.”

  “Done,” he added. “What else?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing else. Just keep this professional, okay?”

  “You got it. Now, can we go?” He adjusted the helmet under his grip. Would she go with him? Would she drive herself? He lifted a brow and stepped back, putting space in between them. He leaned his back against the wall next to her and motioned with his arm, as if to suggest, ladies first.

  “Yes,” she sighed and shook her head. “I know I’m going to regret this, but yes, we can go.”

  “You have a lot of faith in me,” Logan pressed a hand over his heart in mock shock. Miranda smiled again. “Come on, my bike is downstairs. Allow me to cook for you. I promise, no come-ons and no ulterior motives.”

  “You cook?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Is it so hard to believe that a man in the military has culinary skills?”

  “No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--”

  “Sure you did,” he offered, teasing her. “Being in my own home, in my own element, will help me to relax and--”

  “Wait, your home? Oh, Logan, I don’t think--”

  “Woman, would you stop? I’m not going to do anything, I already promised you this. Actually, it would help you understand my beginning, as you had requested earlier.”

  She sighed and lowered her gaze. “Allow me to drive myself and I’ll follow you, okay?” She looked up to him and Logan nodded.

  “I’ll take it. Let’s go.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Logan chopped raw vegetables on a cutting board, then pushed them into a frying pan. He tossed in olive oil and seasonings, then stirred.